The 50th Annual Hunger Games
by Layne Muffins
Summary: Haymitch's Hunger Games from Maysilee's point of veiw
1. Chapter 1

My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review! Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Chapter 1

I stare into the comforting eyes of my mother. She holds out her arms, and I find myself snuggled between them. My sister wedges herself next to me, and I hold her sweaty hand. My mother pats my blond hair, trying to give me courage, but I can see the fear in her eyes.

She takes my hand along with my sister's. We trudge through trough the gray streets. The air is damp and depressing, it's as if the earth itself knew that there was a Reaping. Already, a commotion was starting in the Town Center. I hug my mother, take my sister's hand, and cross over to the roped-off section that holds the children that are fourteen. I find my best friend waiting for my sister and I. She greets us, and we all hold hands, grasping for dear life. I know that the chances of any of us going were slim, but…

The District 12 escort, Rita Mason, bobbles onto the stage. "Welcome to the 50th Annual Hunger Games", she says in that ridiculous Capitol accent. "As you know, this is the second Quarter Quell! It has been selected that the number of tributes from each District will be doubled. That means two boys and two girls!"

_Duh, _I think. Then I grasp what she means. My chances of going in are doubled. My name is still less likely to be drawn then those of the Seam, but there have been cases…

Rita scurries over to the girls' glass bowl, singing, "Ladies first", leaving trails of glitter behind her. She reaches in with her long nails, and snags a piece of paper. She pulls it out and gives a commanding cough. "Lucy Peters."

I give a sigh of relief. Not me. Not my sister. Not my friend. Still, one more name to go… I lean into my sister, and our little trio holds tight. Rita reaches for another slip of paper. She gives another cough.

"Maysilee Donner."


	2. Chapter 2

I AM ABSOLUTELY SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LATE….. thank you for reviewing…. YOU ROCK! My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review! Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Chapter 2

Complete Silence. I try to fight the shock, and look at my sister. Her eyes are filled with tears. I give her a hug and then give a hug to my friend. I walk to the stage and stand by Lucy Peters. I try to appear strong, but I want so badly to curl into a ball and cry. Rita bounces over to the boys' glass ball. But I'm not paying attention to the names she calls out. I am only focusing on my mother. My father is sick, with some kind of disease, and he is practically dead. The doctors say he has no chance, and the people in charge of the Apothecary tell us they can only shortly postpone his death. I know she wants to take my place, but I know she can't. She has always wanted to take away any pain my sister and I have suffered.

Once the names are called, we all take turns shaking hands, and then we are rushed off to the Justice Building. The Peacekeeper escorts me into a room where I sit alone for a minute. My sister and mother enter and sit on the couch with me. My little brother is absent, probably with my father. My sister, Nalia, hugs my neck and cries.

"I love you Mom. I love you Nal-"

"You're talking like your going to die!" Nalia screams.

"I am." I whisper. "I have no special skills that will help me. I am going to die."

"No. You go to the apothecary everyday, so you know all the basic healing herbs, and the ones that are edible. You can stay alive, if you can hide . . . you can . . . can." She fumbles in her words and starts to cry, placing her head on my shoulder. My mom stays silent, taking in my face one last time, and I find myself doing the same. After moments of silence the Peacekeepers come and collect them,. Next to come in is my friend from the apothecary. She holds my hand in silence, and then she goes over the herbs I should know. Too soon the Peacekeepers retrieve her. I am left with no one, until the Peacekeepers come for me.

I am boarded unto a fancy train. Not like the kind that transports coal, but a high-speed Capitol train. I feel kind of excited, and then I remember that this train takes me to my death. Once aboard, Rita points out my room. "I have my own room?" I ask, amazed. Rita just rolls her eyes and walks away. I open the door and cross over to the huge bed. I try to stop myself from jumping on it, but I just can't help it. I walk over to the closet and change into a pair of nice slacks and a blue blouse. I fold up my dress and stuff a pressed daisy into my pocket.

"It's time for dinner." Rita says on the other side of my door. I step out and walk through the unfamiliar hallways. I stop when I see the dinner table. I am the only District 12 tribute that is not from the Seam. Go figure. Next to me sits Lucy. Then on the other side there is a boy with dark hair, then another. Two empty seats. Rita comes and sits down. Then the only victor from District 12. He is old, probably 52. I think he won the 16th Hunger Games, thirty-four years ago. He stares unfocused at his dinner plate. "Mac, give them some opening advice." Rita prompts.

"I'm Mac, I won the 16th Hunger Games when I was 18. I had no mentor, so consider yourselves lucky, lucky until ya die!" He starts laughing and falls into his dinner plate. He jolts up when the mashed potatoes burn his face. I try not to laugh when I see a green bean stuck up his nose. "Now 'nough about me, how about you?"

"I'm Lucy Peters." The gray-eyed girl says. "I am seventeen. I . . . I-I'm so scared!" She brakes into a series of sobs. I place my hand on her back awkwardly. Mac looks at me.

"I'm Maysilee Donner. I have a twin. I . . . um . . . know about herbs." I say. I see Mac saying things under his breath.

The Seam boy looks up, "I'm Larson G-Gidelli." He stutters. "I am thirteen, I-" he stops talking.

The other boy speaks up, "I think the Hunger Games are stupid and a waste of time and effort."

"Agreed." Mac says. "Your name?"

"Oh, I'm Haymitch Abernathy."


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you my reviewers (all 2 of them) you guys really made my day! XD My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review! Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

CHAPTER 3

We eat in silence. Well, the District 12 people do. Rita keeps blabbering about past tributes. She's easy to ignore. I am amazed by the food they send out. Soups, stews, and desserts I've never even hears of. After the filling meal, we are to talk to Mac. "Once you get to the Capitol, the stylists will 'recreate' you. Do as they say." He sees that we are ready to sleep. "Go get some rest guys." He dismisses us.

I walk into my room and crawl in between the warm blankets. I take out the pressed daisy and give it a sniff. I hope they let it be my token. I drift of to sleep almost immediately. My dreams are dark, and I hear someone screaming. I see Nalia standing before me. I reach out to touch her hand, but when we come into contact she screams and falls to the floor. I look closer and find that it's not Nalia I'm staring at, it's me. I wake from the horrible nightmare shrieking until Lucy rushes in.

"Wha-?" she looks at me with sympathetic eyes. She sits next to me, "Bad dream?" I nod. "Go to sleep Maysilee." She walks out. It takes me a while, but I finally do. Sleep is filled with the unmistakable fears I have for the Games.

"Good morning! It's breakfast time?" Rita says as she knocks on my door. I look around and crawl out of my bed. I change into some deep blue jeans and a dark purple shirt. I ruffle my shoulder-length blond hair and head out the door. Once in the hallway I find Lucy. She is dressed white shorts with and orange shirt. Her black hair is thrown into a messy ponytail, but it looks so natural. I notice her smooth olive skin and beautiful gray eyes and truly think she is beautiful. She smiles and I smile back. We walk together through the halls and into the dinning area. Haymitch and Larson are already there, along with Rita and Mac. Rita is drinking something dark that I identify as coffee.

A plate of pancakes is put in front me. Strawberries and something white and fluffy is on top. "They call it whipped cream." Larson says. I cautiously try it and I am surprised that it's so sweet. I devour the pancakes and drink some very white milk. I eat some biscuits and poor some honey un top to give it an even sweater flavor. I am stuffed when Rita says that we've entered the Capitol. We look out the windows and see a place of many colors. I am dizzy by trying to identify person from building, ground from wall. We roll into a place where we are all herded into different directions.

Once when I am in a colorful room three women come to greet me. One is tall and has purple hair and purple tattoos of butterflies, soaring across her body. The others look like twins with their similar eyes and faces. I feel a stab of heartache as I think of Nalia. They tell me their names, Layla and Lola. Layla is died a quiet shade of blue and Lola is died a lively shade of neon blue. The butterfly-girl laughs and finally remembers to introduce herself. Martha she tells me as she giggles. They throw me into a bath where they remove the hair of my legs and under arms. They reshape my eyebrows and smooth rough skin. I swear I am glowing when I examine myself in the huge mirror.

My stylist comes in. She has deep green eyes and green tattoos of flowers all over her body. She sits me down. "I am Carnelia." She tells me. "Being part of District 12 is coal mining, so me and the other District 12 stylists have decided to dress you in the traditional coal miner uniforms." _Great_, I think, _so original._ "But of course we can add sparkles and other jazzy things!" she says all bubbly. She gets me fitted, and then studies me. There is a band of sparkles that go around the waist and the cuffs of the hands. Other then that it's the normal, plain, gray coal miner jumpsuit.

My prep team comes in and they do my make-up. Dark around the eyes, and bright red lips. It makes me look seventeen, not fourteen. Then Layla rubs coal dust under my cheek bones, making them look hallow. I see the ring of black around my eyes differently now. I look sick and underfed. So this is how the rest of Panem views us. We are rushed out to where the rest of the tributes wait by their chariots. I am the last to arrive from District 12. Lucy is already in a chariot with Larson. She smiles and apology ringing in her eyes. That leaves Haymitch. Yay. I step into the chariot and mumble a hello. He gives a small nod. I sigh when the chariot starts rolling, and I grip the sides for support.

Cheers erupt through the Capitol, but I know they are not for District 12,

we are like mud to them. I put on my best grin and look into the crowd. I cast a glance at Haymitch. He doesn't pay attention to the crowd, he just stares forward. I want to laugh, but I don't. We roll into City Square, and stop in front of President Snow's mansion. He steps out onto the balcony, then gives his speech on the Hunger Games. I don't pay attention; instead I look at the other tributes. Some stick in my head. A monster girl from District 1, then a group of killing machines from 2, and a petite girl from 7. Then I look at Lucy, and then at Larson, and then Haymitch. _These are my opponents too. _

President Snow's speech is over, and we head into the Training Center. The District 12 tributes wait for me to cross over to the elevators. It is an awkward ride to our floor, and the silence seems to be fine for all of them, except me. I sigh, again. Once we are on floor 12, Rita points out our rooms, and I find I am amazed once again. A huge window and bathroom. A plush bed, and a microphone I think I can speak into to order food. _Sweet._

I lay in between the warm sheets, and drift off to sleep. Dreams of death visit me, and I wake covered in cold sweat. Its dawn, and I'm hungry/ I walk over to the microphone and order pancakes with extra whipped cream. I am done eating when Rita comes in and tells me that its time for breakfast. I step out and find my way to the dinning area. I find that I am not the last to arrive. A sleep deprived Haymitch comes and sits next to me.

While we eat, Mac goes over what we are to do today. "Today is the first day of training. Find out what your good at, but let everyone know. Save that for the Gamemakers. Try a lot of things, but today stick with survival skills." Then we depart for the Training Center. As usual we are the last to arrive. I am shocked by what I have to learn in three days. I start at fire making, and I am good at this.

Then we, Lucy and I, move onto plants and herbs. The instructor is surprised to find that I know so much. Lucy is a natural at his, so the instructor moves onto more complex and advanced techniques, like foraging for hem, and how to make herbs into very powerful poultices.

We move onto snares, which I have trouble with, but Lucy is amazing. I watch her beautiful hands craft delicate traps. Then before I know it, its lunch. The Careers all eat together, but I sit with Lucy and Larson. Haymitch sits by himself. I invite him over, but he lust shakes his head. I notice that Larson watches the girl from 7. He looks at her with such kindness it's unbelievable. I now remember them training together. I sigh and, Larson can't afford to fall in love now.

He walks over to her, so Lucy and I follow. I learn that her name is Sophronia and that she is twelve. She blushes when Larson says her name, and follows him like a shadow. She has dark brown hair and inquisitive blue eyes. _They'll be the first to die_, I think. I shake my head disapprovingly and start knot tying.

The training is done for today. I head towards the elevator and see that it is full, holding Lucy, Larson, and Sophronia. I step back as the elevator goes up. I wait by myself, until Haymitch creeps up on me.

"Hi," he says. I am shocked.

"Hello," I say, and then silence takes over. The rest of the rest of the ride is awkward so I stare at my shoes. Haymitch stares at the door. For the first time I began to actually _look_ at Haymitch. He has dark curly hair and intelligent gray eyes. He is tall and built with lean muscles. I think he is sixteen. He looks at me, so I return my gaze to my shoes. The bell rings, not soon enough, and we head for our rooms. I settle into my bed and have a dreamless sleep for the first time in many nights.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it's been so long! Thank you my reviewers! You guys really made my day! XD My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review! Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Chapter 4

Morning light spills through my window and I wake peacefully. At breakfast Mac tells us that we have to practice combat skills, and I head down with the rest of 12. Lucy follows Larson who meets up with Sophronia. I work my way over to knife throwing. I look around and find the Careers throwing axes and spears. I glare at my dainty knife. Some of the other tributes are holding swords and other weapons uncertainly. I try my luck and throw the knife, but it soars only three feet before it clatters on the floor.

"You might want to try looking before you throw," someone says behind me. I whip around and find Haymitch wielding a knife and a smirk on his face. He throws the knife ant it expertly finds the bulls eye of a target fifty yards away. That brings another smirk to his face.

"You're not supposed to show off," I mumble under my breath. Haymitch chuckles darkly and hands me a knife.

"Pull it behind your head, and concentrate on your target. Closing your eyes and randomly tossing won't achieve anything." He says. I do as he says while grumbling. It finds its mark on a target next to Haymitch's. He chuckles once more and walks off. I practice a little longer then move to sword wielding.

Almost all the swords are to heavy for me to even hold, let alone swing. The instructor finally finds me a sword that is two-feet long. The only way I'd be able to use was if I was close enough to spit in the eyes of my fellow tributes. After what seems like forever, I achieve next to nothing in sword wielding. I thank the instructor and put the sword away when lunch is called.

I sit next to Lucy and Larson, who sits next to Sophronia. We eat in silence, except for Larson, who occasionally whispers something in her ear. The Careers laugh and point at the other tributes. They point to Haymitch and laugh, then at Larson and laugh harder, and then at me and laugh so hard they almost fall out of their chairs. I think that they saw my sword play. It hurts, but I give an uncaring sniff. After lunch I am more aware of the Careers.

I go over to where Larson and Sophronia are practicing archery. Archery isn't very common in the games, but I think they're trying to find something to do, like I am. At first, I am not that good, but I have the best aim. The technique itself left room to be improved. I practice until I can shoot over forty yards away. I prefer knife throwing. After hours of floating around different stations, they say training is up.

Haymitch and I get stuck in an elevator with one of the girl tributes from District 11. She doesn't talk much, but I do find out her name, Skyra. The rest of the ride is silent, and she steps, more like glides, off the elevator when it stops at her floor. It fells like less than a minute when the elevator doors open at our floor. Dinner is silent, because the future hangs down on us. Tomorrow is training, the day after that the performance for the Gamemakers. Then the interviews, then finally the Games. Have I really been here for only two days? After the eerie silence, Rita wishes us good night and we separate for our rooms. I can't sleep with the nightmares promising to came again, so I get up and walk around the room. All too soon, I feel confined, so I rap a blanket around me and open the door.

I wonder through the hallways, looking for something to do. I pass the dinning area and find myself in the television area. A very comfy-looking couch calls my name, and I find myself slumped across the sofa.

I finally notice the shadow sitting on the chair next to my sofa. "Hello Haymitch," I say, and I guess he's been there the whole time. He leans forward, just his face revealed.

"Go to sleep, Maysilee," and I do.

I nervously pick at my nails and fiddle with my hair. Lucy was called not that long ago, so my turn will come soon. I remember what I went over in training yesterday, really nothing to perform for the Gamemakers. Haymitch has got knife throwing covered, I can feel it. Larson's going for sprinting, and Lucy will obviously perform her amazing snare skills. I'm stuck with the plants.

Somehow I know this won't be enough. They finally call my name and I enter through the doors. The Gamemakers pay no attention to me, but some part of me doesn't care. I walk over to the herb section and sit down with a shallow wooden bowl. I sprinkle some herbs and mash them with a wooden block. Some other herbs go into the poultice. I sit there with a strong concoction that could prevent a lot of common infections, but the Gamemakers have their attention on a platter of lamb stew that has just arrived.

Part of me is sad, the other doesn't care.

We sit in the television room. Haymitch sits on his chair. We watch as the tributes' faces flash across the screen, and a number appears to indicate their score out of 12. The monster girl from 1 receives a 10. Skyra gets a 5. Sophronia gets a 3. Haymitch gets an 8. A chorus of cheers erupts while Haymitch watches expressionless. Larson gets a 4. Lucy gets a 4. Silence. My picture is conjures up and I sit in anticipation for my score.

A two.

Gasps are exchanged; a hand is placed on my shoulder. I start to laugh. I don't know why, but its funny how. Funny how I thought I could win. They stare me like I'm crazy, and I think I agree with them. "What's funny?" Rita asks appalled.

"Its funny, because for a moment I thought I could do well, thought I could win. Ha! Then I got my score. Funny." I then break into tears. Three pairs of hands pat my back, trying to comfort me. Mac and Haymitch just stare at the television. I feel a little hurt. "Sorry, I think I'm suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder." That brings a round of smiles to their faces.

"Don't worry about it. There's still the interview left." Lucy says. I wonder if she has any faith in her self. I always thought I was the stronger of the two, but the Hunger Games might prove that wrong.

I nod, avoiding their eyes and walk to my room. I sit on my bed and stare out the window. I take out my pressed daisy and gently sniff it, remembering home. I order some hot milk and watch the shy turn black. No stars, too much light. Nalia. That's what I think of as I sit there. Is she there, in District 12, watching the sky too? I miss her too much. I think of my mother and brother. My heart aches as I think of my father.

I don't remember when, but I manage to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

I apologize for its lateness. Thank you my reviewers! You guys really made my day! XD Flames expected and accepted. Nonmembers can now review. My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review! Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Chapter 5

"Maysilee, stop fidgeting!" Carnelia demands. She fits me into a strange dress of many colors. After the bickering stops, I look at myself in the mirror. The dress is fitted at the top. The sleeves stop at the elbows. It is a royal green. The skirt of the dress is like an upside down teacup. It stops at my knees. The dazzling skirt is made up of what looks like feathers. Beautiful colors with what looks like an eye on the end of each feather. I even have a tail. It is made up of the same feathers. The makeup makes my eyes shimmer, and there is a feather clip in my straightened hair.

"You are a beautiful peacock." Carnelia sighs. I don't know what a peacock is. But to my best guess, it's some kind of bird. It is rather beautiful. I look down and see my shoes are simple flats that are royal green, but when I walk they shimmer with the colors of the intricate feathers. I am beautiful.

Carnelia hugs me. Martha, Layla, and Lola wish me good-bye, though they will see me again. I am taken to the space underneath the stadium where Caesar Flickerman will interview us for the Capitol's pleasure. I see Lucy, and she is in a beautiful green dress. A diadem of flowers is placed in her hair, which is braided loosely down her back. She is breath taking. Larson is dressed in a suit that is sky blue.

Sophronia is dressed in a dazzling blue dress that makes her eyes pop. Her brown hair is curled and intertwined with silver ribbons. Her dress swirls around her hips, and is decorated with silver sparkles. Skrya is dressed in a flowing white dress that contrasts beautifully with her skin. Her hair is beautifully curled and she glides so gracefully, it's enough to make me cry. How could I stand by and let others kill these beautiful people?

I look over and see Haymitch in a white dress shirt with a sweater vest and black slacks with black shoes. Even though it's so casual, it's really not that bad looking. I turn my head and see the monster girl from District 1 in ripped-up black jeans, a blood-red shirt and chains all over. She looks like she wants to stab somebody with that scowl on her face. It makes sense though, because I could not imaginer that girl in a dress.

Time comes and we all sit down. Caesar Flickerman has dark green hair and green lips, and obviously his twinkling blue suit. He starts the interview with the girl from District 1. She just grunts and growls, and when Caesar finally asks what she plans to do in the Games, she replies, "I'm going to go full out monster and kill everybody. I'm gonna be the victor of the Second Quarter Quell." The crowd erupts into cheers. She spits and walks back to her seat.

_Charming, _I think. The other tributes go by and then it's Sophronia up there. She chuckles and laughs and even cries when her family is brought up. I learn she is the third child of her family. Her two older siblings, along with her mother, died of famine and sickness two months ago. Her father turned into a drunkard that neglected her.

"Coming to the Capitol, having fresh food and clean clothes, it's like a paradise." She says. "Sure the Games will be hard, but I've dealt with pain before." Then the buzzer rings and she walks back to her seat.

Soon Skyra walks up there and just stares at her feet. "Nervous?" Caesar asks.

"No just thinking." Skyra admits. Caesar motions her to go on. "Well, I'm thinking about my older brother. He's deaf and blind in one eye. He's not allowed to work for a living, so I work double-time to provide enough for our family. That's why I am so… physically built. I'm not some petite fairy, though my brother did always call me 'Gentle One'. Then I called him loser." The crowd laughs and Skyra blinks then smiles. The buzzer goes off, and she glides to her seat.

Lucy nervously walks up to the stage and takes her place near Caesar. "Why Lucy, aren't you beautiful tonight." Caesar starts out. They talk about how glamorous the Capitol is. They talk about how there are different types of strengths, not just physical. Like the strength of beauty or wisdom. Soon, all too soon, the alarm goes off and it's my name being called.

I try my best not to trip as I make my way to the front of the stage. As I sit down I hear Caesar say, "A peacock." I chuckle and tell him I don't know what a peacock is. "The king of the birds, a pure example of royalty and grace." He explains.

"Really, I just feel like a pigeon gone Capitol." The crowd laughs, and I blush.

"Anyone special looking out for you tonight?" Caesar asks.

"My sister. She's my twin; I miss her so much. And my brother, my mother and my sick father." I tell him. Caesar shakes his head in a sad way.

"Maysilee, how do you feel about that two you received last night?" Caesar asks a little cautiously.

"Well, I think I deserve better. But, I'm not into labels." I say with a wave of my hand. "The others can think what they want, but I'll be there, in the arena, trying my best, and doing what I can. Not for me, but, first my family, and then for those past tributes who were labeled as the underdog."

"You really are a peacock, Maysilee." Caesar tells me. Then the buzzer goes off and Larson is summoned.

During his interview he acts distracted. Caesar finally asks what's on his mind. "I'm worried that I'm getting too connected. To my fellow tributes. To the Capitol. To the pain." Caesar nods understandingly. "I mean, what happens if your back is turned and your best friend sacrifices themselves to save you, because you were to slow, to blind, to ignorant?" Larson asks. "Is the pain the same as your horrid surroundings, or is it worse. It's too hard to explain. I mean, I feel like pain is coming too often, that I won't be able to separate pain from bad to worse. I'm afraid I won't be able to distinguish pain from good, either." The crowd is silent.

"Well put Larson." Caesar says, then it's Haymitch's turn. We all know what Caesar will ask, the question that's been burning through everyone's mind, the question saved for last, no doubt.

"So, Haymitch, what do you think of the Games having one hundred percent more competitors then usual?" The tributes hold their breath.

"I don't see that it makes much of a difference. They'll still be one hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds will be roughly the same." He says as he shrugs.

I want to laugh, and when the crowd laughs he gives them a half smile. Sarcastic. Indifferent. Cocky, and a little self-conceded. At least _I _think so.

The interviews are done and we head back to the Training Center in long cars.

It is late into the night when I finally arrive on floor 12. I trudge to my room and collapse on my bed. Sleep doesn't come, and I need to remind myself that sleep is essential. Tomorrow is the 50th Annual Hunger Games, the Second Quarter Quell. Tomorrow is the start of my death sentence.

I fall asleep to the sound of my sobbing.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you my reviewers! You guys really made my day! XD Flames expected and accepted. Nonmembers can now review. My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review! Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Chapter 6

It's dawn when I'm woken up. I board a hovercraft and slump down in a chair. Carnelia comes in, along with Martha, Layla, and Lola. We eat breakfast in silence and then a Capitol man comes in and takes it away. A doctor comes in and injects a chip into my forearm, near the shoulder. Carnelia unpacks a box and dresses me in dark blue jeans with black rubber boots that go over the jeans and up to just beneath my knees. She slips a black shirt over my undershirt, and t hen hands me a black coat made of the same material. "Expect it to rain." She tells me, then hand me my pressed daisy into my hand. I slip it into my pocket and hive my stylist and prep team a nod good-bye.

I cross over to a panel on the floor. An invisible tube surrounds me, and then I'm being lifted up. Darkness swallows me.

Light flashes and I have to blink several times to adjust to the brightness.

"Let the 50th Annual Hunger Games and the Second Quarter Quell begin." I hear Claudius Templesmith announce. I have sixty seconds to take in my surroundings, but I don't think sixty minutes would be long enough.

The sky is a beautiful crystal clear blue. The sun is warm and it fells good on my skin. I turn my head and see a sparkling lake and a gorgeous mountain. While I turn my head I catch site of Haymitch. Even his eyebrows go up in pleasure. I turn my head and see a forest. I scan the tributes and find Lucy. I give her a tiny nod, remembering our pact on the third day of training. I scan the forest and the meadow before the forest stars, looking for familiar herbs. The cannon goes off, but do not process what's happening yet. When I do, my head snaps up and I see that Haymitch is already at the Cornucopia before anyone else.

As I sprint the forty yards to the Cornucopia, Haymitch is already gone and there are already three Careers at the Cornucopia. I grab a backpack and head for the woods. I keep running, only hoping Lucy knows where I am, I run until I hit a small stream. I peer behind a tree and find Lucy standing a little ways away. I jog up to her and she takes my hand. We keep walking. I hear the cannon sound, but after ten shots I lose track.

The forest is amazing. The grass is a vibrant green; the trees are tall and twisting. There are many flowers dotting the forest floor. After walking for about half an hour, Lucy stops.

"Maysilee, can we stop?" she asks. I would like to go on, walking as far as we can until sundown, but I turn around and see Lucy slumped on the ground, struggling to get back up.

"Sure." I answer. Then I settle down, for ten minutes at the most. I go through my backpack and find a bowl, some dried beef and a blowgun with two-dozen darts.

"Look," Lucy says holding up a flower. "It's so pretty." She leans in to smell it, but I stop her.

"Lucy, I don't think that's a good idea." I warn. I don't trust our breath-taking environment.

"Oh, that's ridiculous." Lucy leans in and smells it, inhaling anything the flower gives off directly, good or bad. "See," she says, and then turns toward me. "I'm thirsty." She notices my backpack. "Do you have any water?"

"No. I haven't any since the Games started." I tell her.

"If only we could find a stream like the one back there."

"Wait, you had some water from that stream?" I ask.

"Yes, it was quite good," Lucy says dreamily.

"Lucy! That could've been poisonous!" I squeal.

"I'm sure it wasn't," Lucy says as she stands up. "Come on, let's go."

We walk until sundown, finding no complications. "Are you hungry?" I ask Lucy.

"No." she mutters. She looks sick. We keep walking when Lucy haunches over and vomits. I look at her in the last light of the day and find red welts all over her beautiful skin.

"Let's find a place to rest." I suggest. We pick a huge willow, with branches extending down to the ground. I take Lucy behind the branches, strip of my raincoat and lay her down on it. I sit, huddled next to Lucy, when I hear the familiar pitter-patter of rain. I poke my head through the branches and find water descending down. I rummage through my backpack and retrieve my wooden bowl. I push it outside and wait a few minutes. I bring it back in and dab my finger into the water. I cautiously leave a drop on my tongue.

"The water's clean." I say in relief. I rip a bit of cloth of the bottom of my shirt and dip it in the water. I place the wet rag on Lucy's burning forehead and try to coax some water into her. She swallows a mouthful, and then turns her head to vomit. I try to get more water in her, but she groans.

"No more." She pleads. I place the bowl outside to collect more rainwater. I take the strips of dried beef from my backpack. I rip off a little and place it in Lucy's mouth. I massage her neck, helping her to swallow.

She doesn't even turn her head before she vomits. Her shirt is covered in the vile stuff. So I take it off, leaving her in her undershirt. I wrap the jacket back around her and place her soiled shirt out in the rain. I carefully rinse it and ring it out. I place it beside my backpack to dry.

I drink water until Lucy falls into a fitful sleep. The welts get worse, and I am terrified she'll die tonight. I sit down next to her when that anthem of Panem starts play.

I poke my head outside and wait for the anthem to finish. The first face to appear is someone from District 3, a female, and then two male tributes from the same District. One girl form 4, which I didn't expect. Both female tributes from 5, both boys from 7, I wait in anticipation. The other girl from District 7. Then a familiar face comes. Brown hair. Sapphire eyes.

"Sophronia," Is all I can say.

Both male tributes from District 8, along with one female from 9. All the tributes from District 10. One boy and one girl from District 11.

"Skrya's safe." I whisper, relief flooding in.

Then a picture of a boy with black hair, and sharp gray eyes appears in the night sky.

"Larson." My heart brakes. I wait, and no one else appears in the sky. I return to Lucy underneath the willow.

"Who's dead?" Lucy asks.

"Eighteen." I say, avoiding her eyes.

"_WHO'S _dead?" She repeats. I stay silent, staring at her eyes, so much like all those form the Seam, so much like Larson's.

"Who's dead?" she says again, becoming irritated with me.

"S-Sophronia," I breathe in deep, "And Larson." I look at Lucy and see tears running down her swollen cheeks. She turns to her side and I hear her breathing turn slow. I decide to keep watch while Lucy is sleeping.

I drink water and sort through my backpack. I carefully evaluate the darts. I don't think they can kill anyone, but I decide to keep them. I think of my lost friend. My eyelids grow heavy. I try to fight it, but tiredness wins over.

. . .

When I wake, it's past dawn. I jump up and run to Lucy. The welts are even worse, horribly scaring her beautiful face. Next to her is a huge pile of fresh vomit. Her breathing is shallow and uneven. I start to hyperventilate. "Lucy, LUCY!" I call.

Her eyes flutter open for the last time, I dread. She places her scarred hand on my cheek. "Maysilee." She whispers. Her hand falls and her eyes roll backwards. Her breathing has stopped. The cannon goes off and with silent tears I close Lucy's eyes and push her body from outside the protection of the willow tree. I place my hand on her face and slowly get up. I walk away, leaving her once beautiful body behind me. I hear a hovercraft come to claim her body, but I don't look back, it is too painful. I retrieve my backpack and coat and continue on my way, walking nowhere in particular, waiting for the next rain.

After walking for quite some time, I come across one of the many poisonous flowers that dot the forest. Upon closer inspection, I find it to be one of the species that led to Lucy's overdose of poison intake. I feel the anger bubble throughout me. I hate this flower with such passion, that I actually kick it. But that ground is slippery from the previous night's rain. I slip and fall backwards, the contents of my backpack spilling open. I hastily pick up my bowl and blowgun. When I bend over to pick up my darts, I find them lying next to the cursed flower. I study the scene for a while. The darts lay next to the crushed flower. Some of the flower's poisonous liquid has seeped out and is covering one of the darts. I pick it up cautiously, transfixed on the transparent liquid. A plan starts forming in my head, one that could give me an edge on the playing field. No more will I hide, but I wont go looking for my immediate death. No, I will wait for them to come for me.

. . .

I decide to not be reckless, even with my heir-brained idea. I keep moving, never staying in one place. I walk, rest and drink rainwater. Occasionally I come across a battle of a defenseless tribute and the Career pack. I wait in the shadows until it is over, and then rummage for any leftovers. I have stayed alive that way. Cowardly waiting for the horrible deed to be done, then scavenging a dead body for scraps of food. Heartless, but it has worked. I do regret it, standing by, but I have decided to save up my precious weapons.

Nightfall comes, and I find myself walking after a particularly long day of dodging Careers. I know I promised not to run, but that was before they killed the big guy from District 9. I wait out the night in the shelter of a tree, previously having to resort to the behavior of a squirrel. Not long after, a rustling occurs. I lean back in to the shadows, willing to be unseen. The Career pack comes out, carelessly walking about, as if nothing in the world can kill them, and as far as I'm concerned, nothing here can. They talk, but it is hard to make out. They set up a camp near my tree. Two minutes pass, and my curiosity gets the better of me. I carefully scoot down to the branch below me, and then do it again until I can decipher what they are saying.

"What was your favorite kill, Malo." A smooth voice asks.

"Definitely the one where that one kid from 12 wasn't even paying any attention." A gruff voice answers.

"Yeah. It was hilarious how that little girl from 7 jumped in front of him in a sad attempt to save him. Got through her fast. Then the boy turns around like, '_What'?_" laughter rings out.

"Then we just killed him. Too easy, these Games." The gruff voice scoffs.

With clouded eyes and a heavy heart, I climb silently back to my post. I rummage through my bag, the whole time thinking of revenge. I grab what I am looking for and bring out the needed supplies. I crush various plants in my wooden bowl, careful to not let the poisonous liquid reach my skin. I take out a single dart and dip the tip into the deathly mixture. Placing the dart in my blowgun, I slide down the tree with my backpack on my back. I stand ways away from their camp. Crouching down, I put the end of the blowgun to my mouth. Taking aim, I blow as hard as I can. Even from where I stand, I can here the dart find its target, the back of his neck. With quick and silent feet, I flee the scene as I hear the body fall to the ground, and a girl's scream pierce the air. Not a scream of fear, one full of the promise for revenge. Promised to the murderer of the boy, and it will come as sure as the sun will rise, as sure as a rainbow after rain, as sure as the death of Larson and Sophronia.

. . .

_His worst fear came true. _Larson's worst fear, the one he revealed to Caesar, and the rest of Panem, had come true. Sophronia, his best friend, had taken the kill for him. He didn't even to experience if the pain was worse than other pain, he was killed moments after.

_I __**killed **__someone. _I think as I walk into the night. Walking. Walking. Walking. Never looking back. Just walking, careful not to cross paths with the Careers. When the rain hits, I take shelter under a near by tree. I wash out my bowl in the rain, ridding it of all traces of poison. Soon it fills up and I drink, quenching my thirst. I take out an apple I swiped form a dead tribute the previous day. I eat and drink. My head snaps up when I hear a rustling. Out of the shadows steps out a figure that looms over me.


	7. Chapter 7

One thing I'd like to say:

My recipe for writing fanfictions (the essentials): 1. My playlist (gotta have music) 2. Your love (My faithful reviewers that respond as soon as I publish a chapter) and 3. Inspiration.

Sorry for it being late… and sorry for the random author's note that I got rid of… and sorry for the really bad spelling errors in Chapter 6…. Thank you my reviewers! You guys really made my day! XD Flames expected and accepted. Nonmembers can now review. My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review!

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games**

Chapter 7

The person steps forward, leaving the shadows behind. She has silky blonde hair that falls past her waist. Brown eyes full oh hate. She grabs my throat and slams me into the tree. "You're the one that killed Malo? Aren't you?" she hisses in my face. I want to scream no, even though I did, but I can't even breathe let alone plead for mercy. "You killed him, didn't you?" she screams. She takes a knife from her pocket and studies me. "You're the little pigeon from 12, right?" she laughs. "Well, little birdie's gonna get her wings clipped."

She slides her knife down my left arm, drawing blood. She takes her time, smiling wickedly. I start to scream, but she tightens her grip on my throat. The pain is unbearable. She raises her knife, about to stab my left arm, when suddenly the knife clatters to the ground. She bends over, clutching her stomach. I slide to the ground, grasping for breath, and trying to stop the blood from flowing. She coughs blood in my face and sinks to the ground. I look past her body, cradling my, and see another figure. The canon sounds. A dark hand reaches out and snatches the knife out of the dead Career's back. I press against the tree, fearing that I'll die by this anonymous hand, as opposed to bleeding to death from my injured arm.

The unknown hands rummage through the Career's stuff, and then sigh when they find nothing of any use.

"Stupid Careers," the voice mutters, cursing under their breath. I realize, it's a voice I know.

"Skyra?" I ask.

"Maysilee?" she asks. "Is that you?" she moves forward revealing her face.

"Oh, Skyra, it is you!" I say in delight. I drag myself forward, so she can see my face. She sees my bloodied arm and takes bandages from her pack. She raps them around my arm then secures it in place.

"Are there anymore Careers?" I ask, looking around.

"No. This one was on her own. Why?" she asks.

"Revenge. I killed a Career."

"_You_ killed a _Career_?" Skyra looks impressed.

"I was out for revenge." I say, so disgusted with myself.

"Well. You're all fixed up. Do you have enough water?" she asks.

"Yeah. Thanks, Skrya."

"No problem," she gets up and starts to leave.

"Don't you want to be allies?" I ask, considering the possibilities I could have if Skyra was my ally.

"No." she says simply. "Bye, Maysilee."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you. Bye." I say, feeling a little sad that she turned down my offer. She walks off. Silent and graceful. She disappears into the night shadows.

I decide to move when to hovercraft comes to claim the dead body.

I stop when I realize something.

The anthem was playing while I was running from the Career camp. I don't know who died today. Haymitch could've gone, and I wouldn't know. Heck, I still don't know if he's alive. But I can't let it effect me.

When I wake, I check my wooden bowl and find it full of water. I drink, then gather up my things and continue to walk. After hours of walking I hear rustling. I climb a tree and take out my poisoned darts. I place a dart in the blowgun and wait for the rustling to come nearer.

At first, I can't make out what the heck is happening. It looks like a flurry of fur and hands making wild grabs at the air. On closer inspection, I find it to be a girl being attacked by… what it is, I don't even have the slightest clue. But I have to think fast.

I aim for the mass of golden fur and it drops of the girl's body, dead. Three more fur balls attacker her, but I kill them all. I drop down from my post on the branch and cautiously walk to her. She has auburn hair that is ratty and full of leaves. Her skin is dirty and bloody with scratches all over. Her clothes are torn. I gently hand her my bowl of water. "Drink." I order. She obeys. I check her scratches and clean them out with water. Luckily they aren't deep, there's just a lot. When inspecting her, I find a huge chunk of her skin missing, revealing blood red flesh. "What happened?" I asked.

"They're carnivorous." She pants. I rip part of my already tattered coat and rap it around the wound. I take my darts out of the creatures. Once closer, I find that they resemble squirrels. When I look back to the girl, I see my coat is stained with blood. She becomes woozy, and falls to the ground. I run over to her. I want her to live, but after witnessing Lucy's death, I know when it's too late.

I stroke her hair. "Your name?" I ask her.

"K-Kedia." She manages to say. She breathes out for the last time. Her eyes close, and I wish her goodbye with a kiss on the forehead. The canon sings her death.

"Goodbye, Kedia." I say. I walk away, leaving her to the hovercraft.

Days pass. I walk. Drink. Walk. Witness murders. Steal needed supplies. Drink. Walk.

…

I walk through the forest, finally having to stop when a thick hedge blocks my path. I sigh and stand there for a while, contemplating whether or not to retrace my steps. I hear a rustling, and a scream. I peer through the trees and find a fight occurring. It would have been the normal tribute versus three Careers, kind of fight. But it is the tribute that makes it not so normal. The tribute is Haymitch. I quickly spring into action as I see him disarmed, after he killed the two other Careers with wicked speed. The Careers is about to slit Haymitch's throat, when he falls over, dead. The only sign I did it was the small white dart sticking out of his neck.

I step out from the cover of the woods. "We'd liver longer with two of us." I say simply. I finally realize how lonely I've been. How starved for company I am. I study Haymitch's face.

"Guess you just proved that," he says rubbing his neck. "Allies?" he asks.

I nod almost immediately.

**I know it was short, but sadly we are drawing towards the end. Once this ends, I will have a new fanfiction out, called: Method the Madness: the 25****th**** annual hunger games. Please don't look for it yet… Next chapter will be longer!**


	8. Chapter 8

For this Chapter I recommend rereading Chapter 4. Thank you my reviewers! You guys really made my day! XD Flames expected and accepted. Nonmembers can now review. Sorry if it's short, almost done. This is NOT the end. My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review!

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games**

Chapter 8

On the second day of my alliance with Haymitch, I know that being with him is better than being by myself, by far. We gather water, twice as much, so neither of us goes thirsty. We share the food from dead tribute's packs.

When night hits, we set up camp. Haymitch lays on a sleeping bag he got from a dead tribute before we allied. I sit on my tattered coat, staring at the stars. "What are you thinking about sweetheart?" he asks.

I grit my teeth in annoyance. It really aggravated me when Haymitch called me that. "I am thinking about my loved ones, ones that were close to me, Mitchy." I say, throwing annoying nicknames back at him.

"Don't call me Mitchy." He says then pauses. "Whom were you thinking about?" he asks.

"My mom. My twin, Nalia. My brother and sick father. Lucy. Larson. Sophronia. Skyra. Kedia." I pause, and turn to him. "Even you, Mitchy." I laugh, and he rolls his eyes.

"You have a long list." He scoffs.

"Goodnight, Mitchy." I say.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

. . .

"Wake up, Maysilee." Haymitch whispers to me. I open my eyes, and see his face scowling, like always.

We gather our things, and continue moving. After walking for a while, we hear screaming. I run towards it, and find the golden squirrels attacking someone again. Haymitch joins me, intent on waiting for the tribute's death, so we can take their belongings, but I don't have those intentions in mind. Especially when I recognize the tribute.

"Skyra. Skyra!" I scream and start to run to her, but something holds me back. I turn around to see Haymitch holding my arm, not letting me go. "Haymitch! Let me go!" I scream tears streaming down my cheeks. "Let me go!" I breathe in and try to break away form his grip, but it doesn't work. He's too strong.

Skyra does her best to fight off the squirrels, but then a flock of candy pink birds join the squirrels. They tear her apart, until she falls and the canon sounds. I fall into Haymitch, my face buried in his chest, and I cry. He lets me stay there until he gets up and walks away. I can't see through the tears, so I don't know where he went. Soon he comes back, holding something. I realize it's Skyra's pack. I take it from him and throw it, not wanting any part of it. He sighs and retrieves it.

He exhales and says, "Well, those aren't mockingjays." He says, trying to lighten the mood, which is something a Haymitch should never do. With his mention of mockingjays, I remember my mockingjay pin. Still sitting on my dresser, where I left it. I thought it was nice, but it was my sister that really adored it. That's why I left it, so it would belong to her. I wouldn't dare risk it getting destroyed here. "Or peacocks." Haymitch says returning me to the present. At that comment I actually laughed. Of course he will make a comment of my flashy costume I was dressed in for the interviews, which seemed a million years ago.

"Come on sweetheart." He says, guiding me away form the spot I am rooted in. I am so shaken that I don't even protest when he calls me sweetheart.

We walk for hours again, when Haymitch starts to chuckle darkly.

"What?" I ask.

"Oh. I was just wondering how a dandelion like you could kill a Career. I'm referring to the day when we became allies." He laughs again.

"Oh, you mean the day you would've died if it wasn't for me?" I ask sarcastically, which stops his laughing. "Besides, I've killed a Career before." I whisper under my breath. I look up and see Haymitch with an expression on his face that tells me to go on. "I was hiding in a tree, when the Careers unknowingly made a camp beneath the very same tree. I eavesdropped on their conversation. They were talking about their favorite kills." My throat gets tight and hot. "They explained how they killed Larson and Sophronia. I-I got mad. So I took one of my darts, dipped it in poison, and aimed for his neck. And he was dead, just like that." I breathe in deeply. "One of the Careers came looking for me. Called me a little birdie and 'clipped my wings'" I show him my scarred arm, the lines where she traced with her knife a bright pink on my skin. "Skyra killed her. Saved my life, she did." After that, the silence is more dominant.

. . .

After our third day of walking, we encounter a Career, but we work well together, Haymitch taking him down with his wicked speed, and me landing the final blow with my darts. We take his stuff, and leave him to the hovercraft. Soon, I grow weak. I don't know if it's from always walking or from the pain of losing Skyra. Haymitch is determined to move on, as he has been since we allied, but today was when I finally demanded an answer.

"Why?" I ask. When he ignores me again, I stand rooted to the place where I stand, refusing to move any farther. At least not without my answer. A pause.

"Because it has to end somewhere, right?" he says in his matter-of-fact tone. "The arena can't go on forever."

I contemplate what he says, still not making any sense of it. "What do expect to find?" I ask.

"I don't know. But maybe there's something we can use," he says, becoming a little annoyed with me.

"Whatever," I mutter under my breath and continue to follow him.

. . .

"Haymitch, what are you doing?" I ask while rolling my eyes. Once again he was studying the thick hedge.

"I've got it." He says.

"No, actually, I think you've lost it." I mutter under my breath, but when he whips around to glare at me, I can tell he heard.

He pulls something out of his pack. I don't recognize it. "What's that?" I ask.

He sighs, tired of my constant questions. "It's a blowtorch."

"When did you get a blowtorch?" I asked.

"From the Career we killed to other day." He says simply.

He pulls a trigger, and fire erupts out and scorches the leaves. I pace while he slowly burns away the impossible hedge. I walk left, turn, walk right, turn, walk left. My pattern is stopped when I hear a grunt of satisfaction. I turn to see Haymitch covered in sweat. The hedge behind him has a whole big enough for us to get through. He leads the way, and I squeeze through the hole, the leaves catching on my clothes and hair. When I make it through, I find Haymitch standing on a stretch of flat, dry earth that leads to a cliff. I walk up the Haymitch and peer over the edge. Far below, I can see jagged rocks. I pause.

"That's all there is, Haymitch. Let's go back," I say.

"No, I'm staying here," he answers.

I contemplate what to do. There are only five tributes left, including Haymitch and me. I force my self to speak.

"All right. There's only five of us left. May as well say good-bye now, anyway," I pause. "I don't want it to come down to you and me." And it's the truth.

"Okay," he says simply in his usual matter-of-fact tone. He shows no sign of emotion as usual. I give a little tiny shrug of my shoulders, then walk back to the hole.

I squeeze through and walk through the forest, the trees looming over me. There is the usual silence. I concentrate on finding a way to live; I've made it this far. As much as I don't want to admit it, I find myself missing Haymitch's presence, his smart comments and his scowl. I look into the trees, and find myself staring into the eyes of a candy pink bird with a long sharp beak. Eyes full of hate, full of intelligence. A muttutaion. I quicken my pace, trying to get out of this part of this forest. More birds begin to occupy the trees, and I realize that I'm surrounded.

They're on me before I can even scream, which is something that I don't want to do. If I scream, Haymitch will come, which will put him in danger. I start to run when pain explodes in my leg, I look down and see a beak skewer my leg. I fall down, the agony unbearable. Another bird goes for my arm, the pain doubling. They stab me all over, and then the pain is too much.

I throw back my head and let out a blood-curdling scream. The world goes fuzzy. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Haymitch, when at the same time a bird skewers my neck with its beak. I gasp, drowning in the pain. Blood is all around me, but the birds fly off, having ended their prey. Me.

Though the blackness that rings my vision, I see Haymitch hold my bloody hand.

"Hey, Mitchy." I laugh at my own joke, but I get no response from Haymitch. "What, retort by using 'sweetheart'? No witty comment on how I can't all you Mitchy?" I ask, searching his clouded gaze.

"Maysilee, you're dying. Call me whatever you want, sweetheart." He whispers to me.

"Best friend." I say simply.

"What?" He asks, confusion spreading across his face.

"You are- you were my best friend, Haymitch." I say. And it's the truth.

He brushes the hair out of my face, and I decide I _**know**_ he's been there the whole time. Always looking out for me.__He leans forward, just his face revealed. "G-" he breathes in. "Go to sleep, Maysilee."

_And I do._


	9. Epilogue

This is the end. Thank you my reviewers! You guys really made my day! XD My first fanfiction, hope you like it…. Please review!

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games**

Epilogue- _Haymitch…_

I breathe in and take a swig of the white liquor in my hands. I study the new tributes, like lambs to the slaughter. The girl is like me, from the Seam, with dark hair, olive skin, and dangerous gray eyes. The boy is blonde and has cobalt blue eyes, like _her._ The one that saved my life all those years ago.

They ask for advice. I conjure up the wittiest response a drunken man can give. "Stay alive." I laugh. The boy says something, but I don't hear him over my laughter. Out of nowhere, a force knocks my bottle to the floor. Anger spreads inside me, and I punch the boy in the jaw. The girl drives a knife in the table, in between my fingers. I glare at her. Realizing something. I've got a pair of fighters this year. I'm tired of seeing death, some gone in an instant, some prolonged, painful, and personal. Like _her's._

I decide to actually give part of hope, and a smaller portion of my trust to these tributes, the only ones with a fire that I haven't seen in a long time. Like I did with her.

Maysilee.


	10. aN

Go now to youtube. Type in: Layne Muffins into the search bar.

Click the video titled: Layne Muffins: 2012


	11. The Next Saga

**My dearest readers, reviewers, and patient fans,**

**If any of you out there are still getting update notifications from this story, rejoice! If you loved this story, I bring you glad tidings!**

**I am rewriting this story completely in honor of it being my first fanfiction ever. My style has certainly changed (and improved greatly) in the past years, and it would be injustice to leave this fiction in the crappy state it's in. **

**It will be titled ****_Prism Bound_**** and will make an appearance in two-three days! Excited? I am!**

**There is currently a poll on my profile asking whether or not there should be a romance between Haymitch and Maysilee. Please take part!**

**My personal thoughts are that "Haysilee" has been done too many times in too many ways. But should you wish me to write a romance (I really don't care, it's up to you), I promise to make it unique and something you've never seen before. **

**The plot, yes, will be altered (as there really was no plot progression in the original), but the morals and basic story line will remain the same. **

**And our lovely characters will be the same as well. Skyla, Kedia, Larson, and Sophronia will all be there.**

**I hope you're looking forward to this will as much excitement and anticipation as I am! **

**Until then, **

**Layne Muffins.**


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